


Comrades

by Selah



Series: Advent Challenge 2015 [1]
Category: Alice Nine, Jrock, exist†trace
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 13:51:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5336417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selah/pseuds/Selah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is elegance, she is grace, she will punch you in the face. And in that moment, Jyou was seriously tempted to do exactly that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comrades

**Author's Note:**

> Advent challenge #1, prompt: elegance. It was just supposed to be a quick drabble and then it developed a little plotfulness. Involves some personal headcanons and could be read as RP-adjacent.

Jyou tried to summon up proper annoyance with her computer, but it wasn't working. Particularly since the little voice in the back of her head was providing entirely too many perfectly reasonable justifications for the current lack of messages in her inbox. Most of which had little to do with technology and everything to do with her own actions. Or lack of same.

At the back of her mind, she itched to go down to the corner store and buy another game time card for her World of War craft account, but she was firmly resisting the temptation. She had actual work she was supposed to be doing, there really wasn't time for her to be gallivanting about Azeroth and Draenor, trying to catch up with all the changes since the last time she'd actually had an active subscription. She knew their little family guild had gone dormant in the past year, the members all being pulled away by their own busy lives, meaning she'd be playing on her own if she _did_ reactivate, but still the temptation lingered. She could easily pick up a thirty day card, maybe message a couple of the guild members, see if they'd be interested in coming back to the game for a month along with her....

She had very nearly talked herself into it when a knock at the door was immediately followed by Naoto's voice: “Pizza delivery boy~!”

Rolling her eyes, Jyou went to the door, surprised to find Naoto not only had a pizza with her, but an actual male person to hold it for her. Though 'boy' was entirely the wrong word to use on Tora.

“Naoto....”

“What? I found him dithering on the sidewalk, it was either drag him up here or call the cops,” she said with a casual shrug, pushing past her into her apartment.

“I wasn't dithering!” Tora protested, glowering at Naoto's back a moment. “I had to finish my call before I came up here, that's all. Take and bake spinach alfredo with chicken on half, as the lady prefers~”

Jyou ignored the inelegant snort from her band leader, taking the pizza from Tora and inviting him to make himself at home. She couldn't guess why he had decided to just drop in on her, but he was right about the pizza. 

“So who wants to go first telling me what she's doing here,” Jyou called out from her kitchen area; seeing as it was a Sunday, she had been expecting to have the day to herself for a change.

“Subtle, Jyou, real subtle,” Naoto shot back, coming up behind her for a surprisingly brief hug. “Ask kittybutt. You already know why I'm here, you just don't like to admit it.”

“You and Mal are too much alike sometimes, you know that?” she said, rolling her eyes even as she set about making tea. “There's Asahi in the fridge, help yourself. Tora-senpai'll probably want one, too, while you're in there.”

“... you know, I can't tell if I'm interrupting something and you're just too polite to tell me to fuck off or not,” Naoto said a beat later. “It's okay to tell me to leave, you know. That is a fine piece on your couch right now, especially with all that ink. If I was you, I'd get on that train and ride it hard.”

“Naoto!”

“You know this fine piece of ass can hear you, right?”

Jyou wanted to die, wished the earth would just open up and swallow her whole. Not that Naoto was wrong about Tora's attractiveness, but to have him overhear her words like that.... Worse, Naoto was looking completely unapologetic for her comments.

“Right, okay, going now~” Naoto trilled and Jyou was so tempted to just haul off and clock her for that stupid grin of hers. “Have fun, don't stay up all night, and see you tomorrow~”

She should have at least walked Naoto to the door, but her embarrassment wouldn't let her move. Not that she could stay hiding in her kitchenette forever, either, but she couldn't seem to make her brain think of any other options. Maybe she would get lucky and Tora would leave on his own and they could forget this had ever happened? Well, a girl could dream, right? A dream that was dashed completely when strong hands landed on her shoulders, squeezing gently before thumbs started rubbing slow circles into the base of her neck.

“You don't have to hide, Jyou-kun,” he said quietly, a soft chuckle lurking in his words. “It's not like I'm mad or anything. Maybe if things had been different.... But you're going to have to tell them the truth sooner or later, you know that, right?”

“It's not like I haven't tried,” she muttered, clutching the edge of the sink, “but the last time I just blurted out that I was married, they all laughed it off like I'd made a joke. And he's so _damned_ insistent that we keep it hidden from everyone, even my parents. _Especially_ my parents....”

Jyou trailed off with another heavy sigh, letting go of the sink to rub her forehead. Separate apartments, separate careers, separate lives. For a married woman of almost five years, she didn't feel very married. She hadn't shared anything more intimate than text messages with her husband in months, no wonder her bandmates thought she needed a date.

“Because your parents would freak out even harder than they did when you ran to become a bandman,” Tora soothed, his hands smoothing down her arms until he could embrace her properly. “He's not wrong to want to keep it quiet. And you're not wrong to be frustrated by it.”

“When did you turn into such a politician, aniki, hmm?” she muttered, though her annoyance wasn't enough to keep her from leaning back into his arms.

“Hazards of the job, I'm afraid,” Tora replied, chuckling and giving her another brief squeeze. “Smells like our pizza's done. Come on, let's eat. I'll talk to him tomorrow.”

“You don't have to do that,” she demurred, reluctantly pulling free to fetch oven mitts.

“It's not about having to, Jyou-kun, it never has been. You're my sister and you're unhappy. What kind of brother would I be if I didn't try to do something about that?”

“The normal kind?” she teased. It wasn't much, in fact it probably wouldn't amount to anything in the long run, but it was an effort. She could live with that.

**Author's Note:**

> don't ask me who her secret husband is, I'm still not entirely sure. e_e


End file.
